


Look At Me

by thesoundofnat



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Eye Contact, M/M, Past Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-21
Updated: 2016-05-21
Packaged: 2018-06-09 21:49:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6924775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesoundofnat/pseuds/thesoundofnat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ronan’s gaze is intense, almost intimate, and so very understanding, so naturally it freaks Adam out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Look At Me

**Author's Note:**

> This is only my third Pynch fic (the second one I started, but the third one I finished) and I’m very big on combining observations with dialogue, but to be frank this one is almost only observations. I’m still trying to get to know the characters in my own writing, so my fics so far have been pretty experimental. I hope you like it! Feedback is always appreciated xx
> 
> Warnings: Mentions of past abuse
> 
> Also posted on my tumblr thesoundofnat.tumblr.com (seriously how do you link things on here?)

The scent of freshly cut grass reached Adam’s nostrils, making him breath in, in, in, as if trying to memorize it in some way. The afternoon light gave Henrietta an orange tint, and Adam could only hope that the colors wouldn’t clash too much with his still awfully pale legs that got to feel the freedom of late spring for the first time that day since September. He could hear countless of birds around him, a dog barking in the distance, a car driving to some unknown destination. He could feel the sunrays hitting his neck, the breeze dancing around him. There was something utterly peaceful about spring.

Adam prided himself in the fact that he didn’t follow the stream of people loving life because of the weather. He prided himself in the fact that he was currently feeling like escaping the sun’s merciless beaming and go hide in the shadows of some Latin-speaking tree. He prided himself in the fact that he was feeling like crap.

At least that was what he was trying to convince himself of.

He reached Monmouth Manufacturing and only then started to hesitate. Was is smart of him to be with his friends when he was feeling like this? What if they made matters worse? What if his bad mood rubbed off on them? He shook his head. He was being stupid. He’d never had second thoughts about being around them. Why start now?

Trying not to let his mind think up yet another question that would go partly unanswered, he entered the building and made his way upstairs. They were all there, as if they’d been waiting for him. They probably had, albeit subconsciously. They always ended up together, all of them gathered, whether they’d planned it or not. Something just drew them to each other.

He tried to meet their eyes, because if he didn’t they’d suspect something was wrong, and the last thing he wanted to do was talk about it. There was nothing to talk about. In that moment, in that heat, he was just tired of being Adam Parrish.

He’d thought for sure that Noah’s would be the eyes he’d look away from quickly due to his habit of staring into your soul. Noah always knew how you were feeling. Adam reckoned that was one of the few perks of being dead. But when he stepped into the room and looked at them all in greeting, Noah wasn’t the person he scrambled to look away from at all.

Ronan had always had an interesting gaze, especially when you took into consideration how _disinterested_ it usually was; as if nothing was worth fully observing. That wasn’t the case this time. When Adam met his eyes it was as if Ronan had reached out and forced his hand into Adam’s skull, pushing the skin and bone away in order to grab Adam’s brain. In a less graphic sense, it was as if Ronan could instantly tell how Adam was feeling by just looking at him, like Adam had laid his mind, heart and soul all bare for his curious eyes.

Maybe it was all in Adam’s head, but when he looked at Ronan he felt exposed, so he had to look away. He wasn’t sure if the others had noticed his brief crisis or not. Noah probably had, but Adam wasn’t up for his knowing glances. He sat down next to him because it would make not meeting his penetrating eyes so much easier. The only problem with that was that he was sitting directly in front of Ronan, which made avoiding _his_ gaze so much harder.

He’d been here for ten seconds and was already faced with a dilemma. This would be a long afternoon.

“Ah, Adam, finally.” Gansey smiled at him, oblivious to Adam’s inner struggle. “How was work?”

Adam shrugged. “It was work.”

Blue raised her hand. “Hear, hear.”

Adam felt his lips twitch upwards to form the start of his first real smile of the day. Out of all of them, Blue was the only one who could understand his work related woes.

“How was your day then? That’s directed at all of you.”

As they all told him about their individual experiences that had taken place since he’d last seen them, Adam made a point of looking directly at the person speaking. That way he could avoid accidentally catching Ronan’s eye. He somehow felt as if he was still being watched, and that fact made it harder and harder for him not to stare back.

Had Ronan always had such an intense gaze?

Ronan didn’t say anything himself, which led Adam to believe that he’d probably spent the last few hours at the Barns. An image - or memory - of Ronan being exactly where he belonged appeared in Adam’s mind. Ronan walking around in a half-dreamed up house, looking like a god in his kingdom. Ronan relaxing for the first time in ages. Ronan becoming softer, little by little. Ronan, Ronan, Ronan.

_Adam, get yourself together._

Noah wasn’t beside him anymore, and Adam’s eyes automatically sought him out only to find him sitting by Ronan’s side, smirking at him in a knowing way. So much for avoiding his gaze.

Ronan was looking at him too, but at least his own expression had changed from before. When their eyes met Ronan was the one to avert his first. Adam didn’t know why that made him feel a bit giddy.

_Don’t look at Noah. Don’t look at Ronan. Don’t look at anyone._

“I need to use the bathroom,” he said, most likely interrupting Gansey if the look he was wearing was any indication. “Be right back.”

One quick glance at himself in the bathroom mirror and he knew why Ronan was staring. It was hard to detect, but if you looked closely enough - or had somehow memorized the way he usually looked - Adam looked absolutely beat. He bit the inside of his cheek. His poker face was failing him.

_Don’t look at yourself._

He looked away.

* * *

 

Adam was certain that he would never ever look at Ronan again.

It wasn’t even by choice.

He _couldn’t_ look at him ever again.

Not when Ronan kept looking at him like he could see everything going on in Adam’s head. It was alarming to be read so thoroughly without the other person even trying. It made him feel like he was constantly naked, exposed, vulnerable in ways he’d never experienced before.

The most astounding part was that, deep down, he didn’t really mind it. He felt understood, but he only wished Ronan could stop staring like he did. That was what was making him avoid Ronan’s eyes like crazy. As good as it felt it also made him go through ten different sorts of life crises whenever their eyes locked. It was unsettling.

Adam wasn’t used to vulnerability being a good thing. Vulnerability to him meant his father’s spit in his face, his father’s judging eyes whenever he came home, his father’s looming form as he curled up on the kitchen floor. Vulnerability meant his mother’s disapproving gaze whenever he tried to defend himself. Vulnerability meant Robert Parrish’s fist in his face because he hadn’t told him the truth about something according to him.

Vulnerability didn’t mean Ronan seeking out his eyes whenever Adam was feeling low just to reassure him that it was okay. That had never been vulnerability to Adam.

Recent events proved that he needed to reevaluate his definition of that word. He didn’t know how to feel about it. How could you change the way you saw something when that particular way of seeing it had been engraved into your brain like a fact? Was that what Ronan was doing? Trying to help him out? Had he seen something in Adam worth fixing?

Adam glanced at Ronan, breaking his own vow only seconds into it. Ronan wasn’t looking at him, but he might as well have been. Something in his stance told Adam that he knew Adam was looking. He didn’t know if the constant attention was suffocating him or making it easier to breathe.

When Ronan inevitably met his gaze Adam gave him a small smile. Even if it was suffocating it was a good way to go.

* * *

 

Adam never wanted to look away from Ronan’s eyes.

It was funny, because the more Adam wanted him to stare, the more timid Ronan seemed to get. Each glance ended with Ronan looking away quickly, busying himself with something else, as if embarrassed he got caught in the act. Adam couldn’t help it. He found himself looking at Ronan more often than not; longing for that understanding look. Only getting brief glances wasn’t satisfying enough. In fact, it left Adam a frustrated mess.

It also left Adam glaring in Ronan’s direction whenever he looked away, but that was a fact he hadn’t realized until Blue brought it up.

“Uh, Adam?” Her voice sounded tentative, and Adam couldn’t help but remember each and every time he’d lost his temper around her. He barely had time to feel guilty before she pulled his attention in a different direction. “Have you two been fighting?”

He frowned at her, not quite knowing what she meant. “Who?” Surely Gansey wasn’t mad at him or something?

“You and Ronan.”

It was weird that she asked, for starters. They’d fought before and no one had ever brought it up. Fighting with Ronan was as common as a late night October storm.

“No, we haven’t.” That was the truth, of course, but for some reason he felt like he was lying. They hadn’t been fighting, but _something_ had gone down between them during the past week or so.

He wondered how much Blue had noticed.

She ran her hands down her skirt, straightening it out. “It just looks like you’re constantly glaring at him, and when you’re not you’re seeking out his gaze, as if you’re challenging him.”

“Oh.” _Oh indeed._ “Well, I guess I’ve been doing it subconsciously.” _Adam Parrish you liar._

“I guess what made me react was the fact that he never glared back, which is unusual.”

Adam shrugged. “Like I said. We’re not fighting.”

Her mouth quirked up a bit. “Which is also unusual.”

Adam barked out a laugh. “Trust me, I know.”

There it was again; the feeling of Ronan’s burning gaze on his neck. Adam ached to look back, but couldn’t. Not now. Not with Blue around. Maybe he needed to force himself to not look at Ronan whenever they were around the others. It seemed too dangerous, too public.

When did it become an intimate thing to look at someone?

* * *

 

To look at Ronan’s eyes was one thing. To look _into_ them up close was on a completely different level. Adam never thought you could drown in someone’s gaze. How wrong he was.

Ronan’s eyes were even bluer than he’d previously thought. More intense, like lakes just waiting to pull Adam in. He didn’t even mind it; almost welcomed it. The danger that those eyes put him in. Adam looked at him, into those eyes, and behind that threat he could see how good a risk could be. How good this risk could be.

“What are you looking at?” Ronan mumbled, his breath hitting Adam’s face.

Adam had to smile. “Nothing.”

Or everything.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm thinking of writing a fic where we get to see the situation that happens at the end, but fully fleshed out with dialogue and stuff. Is that something people would be interested in seeing?


End file.
